


enharmonic

by lovingness



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drunk Sex, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, The Secret History AU, but not really, very loosely a
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:16:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27718049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovingness/pseuds/lovingness
Summary: ...he was pretty like all the women Homer wrote about. That Akira was so pretty Tobio’d go to war for him and demand their graves lie next to each other. That he was so pretty Tobio wanted to get his hands under Akira’s shirt and around his waist, and whisper against Akira’s neck the whole timemine, my sweet girl. The most darling of anyone I’ve ever known.
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Kunimi Akira
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	enharmonic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fatal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatal/gifts).



> this is for elo my dear sweet friend who enabled me to write. whatever this is 
> 
> if you are familiar with _the secret history_ , feel free to imagine ushijima as henry, oikawa as bunny, hinata as richard, kunimi as francis, and kageyama as charles. camilla is nowhere to be seen (EDIT AS OF 01/27/2021: CAMILLA!IWA) but could be imagined as potentially miwa although we don't need to think about that too hard. also don't think about julian or judy or literally anyone else

“But—just when I’ve managed to harden my heart, he’ll turn around and be so sweet. I always fall for it. I don’t know why. . . We don’t run much to looks in my family, you know. . . Maybe that’s why I tend to equate physical beauty with qualities with which it has absolutely nothing to do. I see a pretty mouth or a moody pair of eyes and imagine all sorts of deep affinities, private kinships.”

\- Donna Tartt, _The Secret History_

It’s that Tobio always knocks on Akira’s door near midnight. Only fucks him in the dark, all the lights off and the sheets barely disturbed. And it’s usually over as fast as it begins, too; Akira’s lucky if Tobio does anything more than watch when he jacks himself off at the end, when Akira sometimes takes his other fingers and slides two in himself alongside the wetness that leaks out. When he comes and watches Tobio tie the condom off before he leaves or falls asleep. 

Yes, he knows that Tobio’s cheeks stay red the whole time and if they were both different people in a different life it’d be enough of a show to get Tobio hard again. Or, if they were different Tobio would fuck him again. Never, though, does Akira cross the line. He toes it, though, lets his eyes slide shut and a whine escape when he comes. sometimes _Tobio_ sometimes _baby_. Always indicates that he’s willing to go another round if and only if Tobio reciprocates.

It’s funny, though; Akira doesn’t know if he could pinpoint the beginning of his and Tobio’s relationship. Situation.

He thinks, curled up along the arm of the couch in his dim apartment, that it was their sophomore year. They met at some event for their department, the subsection of the College of Arts and Letters at Tohoku University dedicated to modern and classical languages. Akira had shown up with- Tooru, he thinks, and Wakatoshi, Hajime, and Tobio had been there with Shouyou, who’d just changed majors. It was kind of a coincidence that they’d all hit it off basically well enough, and considering the already small group of them who were in the program, there was no choice on anyone’s part that they would be getting to know each other. 

(And if the floor fell out from under them and if Wakatoshi pushed Tooru off the bridge and if no one found Tooru’s body frozen under the ice until two weeks later, well, who’s fault was it, really?)

Maybe that’s- yes, that’s when it started, Akira thinks. It was the night after _that_ , and he’d been in Shouyou’s room asking if he had the homework done so he could give the answers to everyone else. Tobio’d found them, and, of course, he was drunk, and he’d needed Akira to walk him back. Of course.

Akira wonders if it’s sad of him that he misses their first time. It _was_ fun, admittedly, because Tobio’d gotten him drunk and kissed him softly and told him that he was pretty like all the women Homer wrote about. That Akira was so pretty Tobio’d go to war for him and demand their graves lie next to each other. That he was so pretty Tobio wanted to get his hands under Akira’s shirt and around his waist, and whisper against Akira’s neck the whole time _mine, my sweet girl. The most darling of anyone I’ve ever known._ Giggling like kids who are out too late, getting into things they shouldn’t be. 

And- he actually had touched Akira. Only that first time had Tobio wrapped his hand around Akira’s cock, fawned over it as he’d fawned over all the rest of his body. It was kind of embarrassing, now that he thinks about it, but blissed-out, naive Akira had thought that sex with Tobio could only be impossibly sweet. And he’d thought that Tobio felt the same way.

Tobio’s dark eyes, which had looked so sincerely at Akira and belonged to someone who had said all of those cheesy words. Who Akira thought would be someone kind, even if they were at times absent or sharp-tongued. Lord knows he could be the same way.

Save for the first time, though, every time after with Tobio was always accompanied with a variation of this script:

“God, I was so drunk I don’t remember anything. Didn’t I pass out as soon as I walked through the door? No- Akira, what are you talking about? Don’t be stupid.”

Denial, repeated until Akira was out of breath trying to convince him otherwise without sounding like he cared too much. Because he didn’t and doesn’t care that Tobio has never touched him like that since then. And he doesn’t care that he hasn’t fucked anyone besides Tobio for three months and he doesn’t care that his whole life is splintering at the edges and everything is this close to _cracking_ because Wakatoshi is fucking _dumb_ and got them into this mess-

A knock at the door startled him out of the inevitable spiral; Akira stares at the blank wall in front of him before he stands, walks the short distance to the front door past the kitchen, and checks the peephole.

There’s frost on the outside he needs to wipe off, but the dark head of hair and black coat, even when blurry, is unmistakable. 

Akira cracks the door; when did it get so dark outside? “Tobio?”

Tobio’s nose is red from where his scarf has slid down his face, and he pulls it down to speak. Chapped lips. “Have you seen Wakatoshi lately?”

“Not since class yesterday, it’s-” he checks his watch, confused, “-god, it’s eight P.M. on a Saturday, what do you need him for? Why did you think he’d be here?”

“I didn’t think he’d be here, but I thought you might have seen him.”

Behind Tobio, there’s no sign of a car pulled up to the building. None of them with their lights about to auto-off. 

Akira knows where this is headed. “Well, I haven’t. Do you- need anything else while you’re here?” He looks behind into the kitchen and hums, trying to play dumb. “I don’t have much food, but-”

Tobio pushes the door open while he’s distracted and grabs his wrist to keep him from falling; and, the hand on the wrist becomes a hand on his waist and there’s a cold hand on his face and, god, Akira hates it but the first kiss always, _always_ has him swooning. Tobio kicks the door shut behind them with his foot and takes his hands off Akira long enough to pull his coat and scarf off and drop them on the floor. 

“This is okay,” he gasps out, barely a question, and Akira nods, shivering, as Tobio’s hands move back around his waist and under his shirt. He whispers _sorry_ , an apology for cold hands on bare skin, and then looks past him as if he’s deciding on which surface he wants to fuck Akira tonight. Akira guides them into the kitchen, around the shoes in the foyer and the coat rack and the cabinet drawers that never shut all the way, and then Tobio helps him onto the counter. He stands between Akira’s legs and kisses his neck while Akira fumbles for his belt buckle, undoes it enough just so he can unbutton Tobio’s pants and get his hand around his dick.

Tobio groans, eyes slipping shut when Akira’s thumb immediately starts rubbing underneath the head. “Fuck, _fuck_ , ‘kira, I want-” His lips go back to Akira’s neck and Tobio hums, bites gently with his front teeth; Akira gasps, pressing his lips together, and when Tobio’s at least half-hard he pulls him all the way out.

“How do you- want me,” Akira asks, words shaky as Tobio’s hands wander to his chest. He jacks Tobio slowly, deep breaths ghosting over Tobio’s ear. 

“Here- gonna bend you over and have you right here. God, ‘m gonna fuck you so hard.” 

Like always, as soon as the air in the room is too warm and their hearts are beating too fast for Tobio’s comfort, he steps away and waits for Akira to move. To undress from the waist down and lean over, forearms on the counter, and to finger himself open while Tobio spits on his hand and slicks himself up. Rolls the condom on. And it’s always the same, Tobio getting hard over Akira’s ass and fucking him like he doesn’t want to admit it.

Akira, though, is feeling sly tonight. A little teasing from all his musing.

He slides off the counter and strips, unzips his slacks and turns around when he slides them down so Tobio gets a full view of his ass. His black briefs don’t hide how hard he is when he faces Tobio again, and he makes no small show of eyeing Tobio’s cock. And, then, Akira lets his briefs drop and leans back on the counter as he groans, hand finally on his own dick.

Tobio cuts his eyes, feigns disinterest that’s betrayed by his obvious arousal. 

Undeterred, Akira thumbs his tip a moment longer and then walks around the counter to the other side, ignoring Tobio behind him. Only when he balances himself with one forearm on the counter between them, the other palming his own ass, and he looks up at Tobio coyly does Tobio connect the dots. Eyes widening just enough for Akira to tell.

Akira’s going to make Tobio watch _him_ , not his ass, going to make Tobio stay hard until he gets to fuck him. Going to make Tobio think _Akira Akira Akira_ while his hand is on his dick and while he’s horny and while he’s thinking about fucking him. Fucking Akira, not just a nameless, faceless hole.

Fingers on his tongue, Akira gathers enough spit to slide one finger in while he watches Tobio come to terms with what Akira’s laid out. There’s an amusement with himself that cuts through the concentration of lubing himself up enough, the idea that he has Tobio on a leash tonight instead of the other way around. Akira slides a second in and starts to scissor them right as he sees Tobio’s eyes hood; the poor lighting gives everything either of them does the feeling of being somewhere they shouldn’t be. Akira can’t hold back the moan caught in the back of his throat as he watches Tobio get comfortable. 

After a few more moments, Akira slides his fingers out and wipes them on his shirt. He settles himself on the counter, head resting above his forearms. Arch in his back. 

Tobio moves without speaking, around the counter and behind Akira. He shoves his briefs and pants down enough to be comfortable, places one hand on Akira’s lower back right above his ass. With his other, he teases his cock along Akira’s cleft and lets the head slide across his hole. 

His bare cock. Oh, _fuck_ , is he fucking Akira raw? 

“Condoms,” Akira says, breaths heavy. “In my room.”

Tobio pauses. “If you don’t mind not using it, I don’t want one.”

Akira’s head is swimming. He doesn’t think he’s ever been hornier. “Yeah, yeah, fuck, fuck me raw. Please.”

Barely a pause. “Little fucking _whore_ ,” Tobio bites out as soon as he slides in, pushes as far as he can before he slides out and back in. “Such a fucking tease.”

Oh, _god_ , this is not what Akira expected. He moans, head bowed as Tobio’s pace becomes angry and stays angry. 

“You thought you were- doing something, huh? Making me watch you like that.” He spanks Akira with the hand that isn’t on his back, amusement in his voice when he feels Akira clench around him. “You’re real funny, ‘kira.”

“To- Tobio, _fuck_ ,” Akira gasps out. “‘m sorry.” He doesn’t know if he’s so red from embarrassment or shame or- god, he’s impossibly hard when he sneaks a hand down to jack himself.

He hears Tobio make a noise above him, and just as soon as he had a hand on his dick Tobio is swatting it away to replace it with his own. He makes a circle around the base with his fingers and squeezes gently, making Akira groan. “You’re not coming ‘til I’m done. You know.”

Tobio keeps his hand there even as he continues brutally fucking into Akira, but Akira has something else on his mind.

Deep breath. “Tobio- stop, hey, let me-” He swats a hand behind himself, winces when Tobio slowly, confusedly pulls out. But then he turns and hoists himself onto the counter, leans back on his arms, presents his red, wet hole to Tobio. Face and whole body flushed. “Keep going like this.”

The question hangs in the air, of Tobio going on the way Akira wants him to. Of Tobio giving up a little more control, bit by bit. 

He scrubs a hand over his face, then sighs. “ _Fuck_ , Akira.” Tobio approaches him and slides right back in, both groaning at the change in position. It’s only a brief pause before he starts moving again, the pace picking up to be as rough as before. “Were you- thinking about this the whole night?”

Akira groans, back arching as he watches Tobio sweat over him. “S-so what if I was?”

No answer after a moment of heavy breathing between the two of them. Tobio leans forward to get a hand around Akira’s waist, the other one palm-down on the counter to balance himself. Akira brings a hand to own cock and squeezes around the base like Tobio was, just to see if it gets a reaction out of him.

All it pulls is a stifled groan and averted eyes as Tobio’s head drops. He does, though, press himself further into Akira’s space to kiss at his neck, pushing his cock a little deeper in the process. 

A whine escapes Akira as he tumbles closer to the edge. “Tobio? Tobio, I’m-”

“Don’t fucking come,” he commands, pulling Akira flush against him and forcing Akira to splay his hands behind himself to not fall. Tobio spreads his hands across Akira’s back as he fucks into him, his pace barely slowing even as his hips start to tire. Akira gasps, cock trapped between him and Tobio as he wraps his legs around Tobio’s waist, and the friction is so good and he feels like his entire body is on fire and-

Tobio gets both his hands under Akira’s ass and hoists him up, off the counter and Akira barely wraps his arms around Tobio’s neck as he’s picked up without warning. But, _oh_ , god, Tobio’s cock is impossibly deep inside him and he doesn’t even care where they’re going because he could come like this, could bounce himself on Tobio even like this. 

He’s in such a haze that he barely recognizes that Tobio is carrying him to the couch, the one he was innocently sitting on half an hour ago. His breath is forced out of his chest when Tobio lays him down, but he whispers into Akira’s pink ears: “Ride me.”

Tobio pulls out again and helps Akira roll over to straddle Tobio’s thighs, and Tobio’s hands go to Akira’s chest as Akira uses a hand to guide Tobio back inside. Right as the head of his dick slides in he pinches Akira’s nipples and it’s so surprising that Akira can’t help but lose his focus, sliding all the way onto Tobio’s cock in one go. 

His head drops back, eyes squeezed shut as he tries not to come just from that. But then Tobio takes a hand off of his chest to graze over his neck, fingers teasing. Callouses rubbing right beneath his ears and down onto the sides of his neck, squeezing just enough to make Akira’s head shoot forward; his eyes water almost immediately, head lightly pounding as he makes desperate eye contact with Tobio. Tobio squeezes a second, two drawn-out seconds longer before he lets go, and Akira tries to catch his breath.

Except Tobio smirks, lays both of his hands on Akira’s thin waist, and thrusts up right as Akira is breathing in. Akira gasps and does nothing- _can’t_ do anything as he gets close all over again, head shoved into Tobio’s shoulder as he whines and starts begging for release. 

_Wanna come, wanna come_ , he repeats in his head as Tobio nails his prostate over and over again. As Tobio soothes a hand up and down his back, as Tobio slowly encourages Akira to circle his own hips, clench himself around Tobio’s cock like the whore he is.

Tobio’s voice cuts through the monotonous drone in his head. “Come on my cock like the whore you are.” He’s straining, throat tight as he gets close. “Come, Akira, fucking _come_.”

Akira moans openly, and right as he’s about to finish Tobio wraps his hand around his cock. Jerks him off in time with his thrusting and Akira’s hips moving; it feels like his orgasm never stops because right as Tobio’s hand stops moving on his cock Tobio comes deep in his ass. And, _god_ , Akira is never letting Tobio fuck him with a condom on again, and even though it’s probably his imagination he swears he can feel Tobio twitching inside him. He feels Tobio’s breath on his neck and the side of his head and his hands on Akira’s body, fingers drawing circles on his waist. 

It’s moments later and Akira barely processes when exactly his orgasm is over at all, but then Tobio lifts him up enough for his soft cock to slip out. They both sigh, catching their breaths.

Akira doesn’t think he’s felt this satisfied after sex since- the first time. With Tobio.

And the first time Tobio had let him- he’d let Akira-

“Tobio?”

-it’d be a stupid idea, but-

He glances at Akira, still in his lap, from where his head is leaned back on the couch. 

Akira swallows, hands balancing him on Tobio’s shoulders. He makes eye contact a second longer before he leans in, just close enough to brush his lips across Tobio’s. 

Tobio’s fingers flex where they still lie on Akira’s waist; barely, barely his face moves closer to Akira’s.

It feels like the first time, Akira thinks. Bittersweet. A little dreamy, like the rest of his apartment turns into a blurry nothingness in his peripheral vision. All his focus on Tobio and (he hopes) Tobio’s focus all on him.

Before he realizes, though, Tobio’s already pulled away and is looking somewhere behind Akira. “Can I sleep here?”

Akira’s throat is tight. “You walked here, didn’t you?”

“Would you like me to drive while intoxicated?” Tobio deadpans, eyes squinting as he looks at Akira one last time. “Get off of me. I’m taking a shower.”

Silently, Akira slides off of his lap. Tobio stands, stretches, and, at the last second, hands Akira the blanket that’s thrown across the other chair before he walks down the hallway and locks the bathroom. 

He waits for the shower to start running before he lets loose everything caught in his chest.

Neither of them speaks a word to each other until the morning; Akira wakes Tobio up getting out of his creaky bed to smoke, and Tobio follows because they share vices like they share everything else. 

The old balcony off of the living room is just big enough for the two of them; Akira lights his cigarette then Tobio’s, and he blows smoke out into the morning fog. 

The “morning-after” script is going exactly like it always does.

Akira inhales, exhales again. “Do you want to get something to eat? I’ve got nothing in the fridge except some Moscato, something sweet and light.”

“Yeah.” Tobio blows his smoke where Akira’s just was. He pauses. “What was I doing here last night at all?”

“You were running errands without your car and it was too cold to walk all the way back to yours and Shouyou’s apartment.” Akira crosses his free arm over his torso, exhales. 

Tobio’s mouth opens in a silent “ah”. “Yes, I remember. Thanks.”

Akira sighs and snuffs out his cigarette on the brick wall behind him, leaving it in the ashtray on the small outdoor table, before he reopens the balcony door. “Just tell me when you want to leave. I’m driving.”

Tobio blows out another cloud of smoke as soon as Akira is back inside.

Silently, he walks over to steal Tobio’s jacket off of the floor by the front door. Drapes it loose, over his shoulders, and imagines Tobio did it himself. Imagines they’re going for breakfast like anyone else would be. 

And, god, he curses the way his heart picks up in his chest. It’s every morning after that it does this.

It’s every morning after Akira leaves himself in that kind of vulnerable position for Tobio to see him.


End file.
